


you are the best thing

by jenhyung



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 08:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15926522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenhyung/pseuds/jenhyung
Summary: That's ever been mine. — Taeyong / Doyoung (Life!AU)





	you are the best thing

**Author's Note:**

> 4k+ not edited, rushed, basically bad porn **warnings** : rimming, plugs, fingering, blowjobs

Taeyong finds Doyoung’s studio fairly easily.

He’s only been a handful of times, all of which were triumphant results of Taeyong begging to be brought there just so he can hang out while Doyoung worked. Even so, he remembers the way up the stairs and through the maze of recording booths and dance studios, lit fluorescent and booming with music.

It’s easy to recognize the door to Doyoung’s personal studio – a large sticker of an animated bunny, looking uncannily like the boy himself, stuck under the number _102._ There are other stickers on there too, some of them cute, some of them vile, courtesy of Taeil and Jaehyun, his colleagues and collegemates.

When he gets to the bright orange door, Taeyong peers through the tiny window first, cautious over Doyoung having any other guests in there, for it would definitely ruin his plan if there were. Taeyong bites back a smile when he sees just one puff of black hair sitting in front of the large computer, headphones on, lips close to a recording mic on his right.

The sound of Doyoung’s voice, sweet and silvery, seeps out into the hallway when Taeyong pushes the heavy door open. It forces a shiver down his back almost immediately, an embarrassing reaction to Doyoung Taeyong still can’t seem to shake, not even after three and a half years of dating. He berates himself to get a grip.

His heart’s already going a thousand miles an hour, beating a brand into his skin. He needs to _relax_.

Shutting the door quietly, Taeyong turns the lock slowly and unhooks the little flap that covers the rectangular pane. With a shallow breath, he turns back around to his boyfriend, who still hasn’t any clue of his presence.

Taeyong gives it a moment, closing his eyes and listening to Doyoung sing a couple of lines to the new piece he’s been working on. He himself has heard the same tune over and over again – while Doyoung was showering, while he was cooking, while he was doing paperwork. Splotches of lyrics here and there, interlaced with quiet hums.

Doyoung tends to bring his music with him everywhere, and Taeyong’s glad to be around for the process. It’s interesting, watching Doyoung figure lyrics and hooks and whatever it is that went into songwriting, Taeyong didn’t really know. But it was still fascinating to watch a single note morph into an entire song.

Though – Doyoung’s been working late nights for weeks on end now, and Taeyong can’t deny that the apartment is starting to feel a little lonely, the bed a little… empty. Not that he would ever tell Doyoung that, knowing how important this next project is to the boy, he understands completely. There’s no question of priority; work is work, home is home.

So, Taeyong’s only option is really to bring himself to Doyoung instead.

It’s only after Doyoung’s voice tapers off into the silence that Taeyong brushes his fingertips to the back of Doyoung’s neck, expecting the jolt of surprise it brings.

“Wha – ”

“Hey,” Taeyong mumbles, tangling his fingers with the short hairs on Doyoung’s nape. He grins when Doyoung’s eyes widen, a little slow on registering his appearance, “Surprise.”

“W – what are you doing here?” Doyoung plucks the headphones off, leaving them to rest on the table. He saves the audio clip quickly, hands finding their way to Taeyong’s waist in a way that makes him sigh in relief. _God_. Doyoung’s thumbs dip under his black sweatshirt, tracing over the bump of his hipbones, “I thought we were going to meet at the diner?”

“I know.” Taeyong, with effort, rolls Doyoung’s office chair from the desk, making space for him to step between Doyoung’s legs. “I just wanted to see you first.”

Doyoung’s brow twitches, face morphing into confusion, “What for?”

“‘Dunno,” Taeyong rests his hands on Doyoung’s shoulders. Broad and covered in a thin, woven fabric. The first three buttons are undone. “Missed you.”

“I saw you this morning.” Doyoung’s words don’t match the path his hands are taking, further into Taeyong’s sweatshirt, hands caressing the soft planes of Taeyong’s torso. Another bout of shivers race through him. “Did you come for something else?”

“I came here for you.”

Taeyong leans down for a kiss, one that Doyoung has to tilt up for, their lips meeting chastely. It doesn’t stay that way for long, not with Doyoung gasping when Taeyong licks into his mouth, tasting peppermint and chocolate. He tips Doyoung further back, bringing a knee up to bracket Doyoung’s hips.

Doyoung’s grip tightens as Taeyong moves to leave wet kisses down the side of his neck, “Here?”

“We can’t?” Taeyong nudges the chair back until it thumps against the padded wall. Deeming it stable enough, he brings his other leg off the ground to fully seat himself onto Doyoung’s lap, holding back a moan when their crotches align. “Can we?”

“There’s a – ” Doyoung stutters when Taeyong pushes forward, dragging exhales from them both. He curls his hand around the back of Taeyong’s neck, whispering against his lips, “We have a perfectly good bed at home.”

“But we’re both here now.” Taeyong isn’t used to being irrational, but he isn’t used to going days without Doyoung in bed either. Something coils hot in his gut, the plea slipping out and making his ears burn, “Please?” He lets out a moan, soft and longing, “ _Doyoung_.”

Doyoung plants his feet firmly on the ground, fearful for their stability when Taeyong starts to rock against him. “I don’t – the door – ”

“Locked it.”

“I – lube – ”

“I’m prepared,” Taeyong mumbles, hands slipping down to touch Doyoung’s exposed chest, feather-light. He hears Doyoung muffle a baffled noise when he pulls a travel-sized bottle of lube from his back pocket, thunking it on the table, “Yeah?”

Doyoung laughs at his eagerness, and Taeyong retaliates with a pinching bite on Doyoung’s shoulder, “What’s gotten in to you, babe?”

“Nothing,” Taeyong sighs, shifting back a little to look at Doyoung proper, entranced by the way his hair flops over his eyes, too long and in need for a trim, or maybe some sort of hairspray. Time slows for a moment, and Taeyong watches as Doyoung’s eyes flit to his lips, tugging on his own between his teeth. His lips are a little dry, and his cheeks a little thinner from all the time he’s spent in the studio. Taeyong makes a mental note to pack Doyoung a lunch tomorrow, but right now, he can’t think of anything else, not with his heart and mind screaming – _mine_.

“I just – I think I love you.”

Doyoung looks at him in faux astonishment, “You _think_?” Taeyong rolls his eyes, letting out a long breath when Doyoung’s hands move towards the band of his jeans. “I don’t know if _think_ is good enough for what we’re about to do next.”

Taeyong’s already sporting a semi, skin tingling at the way Doyoung’s whispering, velvety. He chews on the inside of his cheek when Doyoung unbuttons his jeans, excruciatingly slow, and just merely cupping Taeyong over his boxer briefs. No squeezing or stroking, just – _there_. An almost painful existence, truly. Taeyong jerks his hips forward, seeking something more than just touch, but Doyoung gives him none of that.

“ – more,” he rasps, closing his eyes to focus on the way his body is tuning to Doyoung’s every puff of exhale, every caress, no matter how slight. Taeyong grabs onto Doyoung’s shoulder, and the armrest with his left. He grinds forward into Doyoung’s palm, then rests back onto where he’s being held steady by the small of his back, moving to his own rhythm.

Doyoung sits up abruptly, and Taeyong inhales sharply when he feels the chair wobble under them, silenced when Doyoung smashes their lips together harshly. “You’re so – ” he groans between kisses, “I love you.”

Taeyong whimpers, forgetting all about safety and releasing his death grip on the arm rest to cup Doyoung’s cheek instead, trying to feel all of him. “Please?” He moans when Doyoung strokes him once, graciously. He sucks on the tip of Doyoung’s tongue, “Want you.”

The hand Doyoung has on Taeyong’s back trails downwards, the tips of his fingers teasing the curve of his ass. “Tell me you love me too,” he hums, licking the roof of Taeyong’s mouth.

A breathless laugh, “I love you, you idiot.”

Doyoung pretends to consider it, relaxing back into the chair. He smiles when Taeyong chases after him, wired and on edge, grinding himself against Doyoung’s hand without much care for their current precarious position.

Taeyong breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t go far, keeping his forehead pressed to Doyoung’s, when the younger boy slides a finger between his ass, intending to begin prep. He feels his heart slam against his throat when Doyoung’s met with the cool finger loop of a metal plug instead, eyes growing twice the size.

His jaw very much _drops._

“Is that – ”

Taeyong gasps when Doyoung taps the metal ring twice, sensitive. He clenches around the plug, holding his breath as Doyoung picks his jaw back up.

“You’ve never – ” Doyoung’s cheeks redden as Taeyong hardens under his palm, “Where did you – ”

Taeyong shivers. Doyoung strokes the loop again, feeling it echo in him. “I went shopping,” he strangles out, leaning into Doyoung’s touch, hiding his face away. “Wanted to – do something for you. Do you – ” Taeyong squirms, rings of muscle tightening the moment Doyoung loops a finger through the plug, “Do you like it?”

Doyoung answers with a kiss, more tongue and moan than anything. Taeyong tries to stop the tremors rushing through him, but the plug moves with every breath, now even more so with Doyoung’s hold on it. He fidgets about, not knowing whether to think about the way Doyoung’s holding onto the plug, or the way Doyoung’s holding onto his dick, or the way Doyoung’s kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.

The chair creaks warningly when Taeyong bounces once, a silent plea for something more.

Doyoung moves to take Taeyong’s earlobe between his lips, sucking softly, “How do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know,” Taeyong answers honestly, mind drawing a blank. He didn’t actually think he’d get this far.

“Floor?”

Taeyong wrinkles his nose, “Ew.”

“Seriously?” Doyoung laughs. He whispers teasingly, “I don’t think cleanliness is going to matter when I’m a minute away from eating you out.”

Taeyong nearly moans at the thought. He collects himself enough to retort, albeit weakly, “I can assure you that my ass is cleaner than the floor of your studio.”

Doyoung halts his endeavors to glance around the tiny studio, breathing heavy. Taeyong kisses him quickly, just once, unable to control himself at the sight of Doyoung’s lips flushed a cherry red. He reaches past Taeyong for a folded up blanket in a plastic box under his desk, “Yeah?”

Taeyong blinks at it, “I got you that on our third date.”

Doyoung stares at the knitted throw, then back at Taeyong. “Let’s put it to good use?”

“Fine.”

It’s a blur next; Taeyong wobbles to his feet and shrugs off his jeans and socks in one swift motion, hobbling by the side as Doyoung lays the blanket over the carpeted floor. He grabs the back pillow from his desk chair and plops it down to the ground, moving to undress too.

Taeyong helps, though it’s more of a reason to touch Doyoung bare. He drops to his knees, eagerly reaching for Doyoung’s skinnies, practically salivating. Doyoung didn’t wear skinny jeans that often, preferring the comforts of slacks or sweats; and even if he did go for denim, he constantly wore those mom-jeans or really loose ones that had virtually zero tightness. It always confused Taeyong, because Doyoung had nice, _long_ legs and they were muscled and would look _amazing_ in skinny jeans. Like they do now.

“Wait – ” Taeyong’s hands hover over the zip, looking up at Doyoung with a surge of impatience that he hopes isn’t too noticeable, “You don’t have to. We can just – ”

Taeyong yanks the pair of jeans down til’ midway Doyoung’s pale thighs, marked with faint, red lines from how figure-hugging they were. Simply, “I want to.” He presses his lips to Doyoung over his black boxer briefs, relishing in the moan that escapes. Taeyong licks a wet stripe from the hems to the red elastic band, leaving an innocent kiss just under Doyoung’s belly button.

No doubt, hearing the little gasps and moans Doyoung makes is the reason why Taeyong likes sucking him off so much. Even the salty beads of precome can’t deter Taeyong from taking the head between his lips, giving it a tentative suck.

It’s just something about Doyoung’s voice. Him singing, him laughing, him sighing, him _moaning._ It has Taeyong melting within seconds, has Taeyong yearning to hear for more, has Taeyong on his knees, working to make him feel _good_.

“ – yong,” Doyoung heaves, tangling his fingers into Taeyong’s hair, “I won’t – last – if you – ”

Taeyong ignores him, filling his mouth with saliva and taking Doyoung down halfway, stroking what he can’t yet reach. He’s careful with his teeth, knowing Doyoung’s sensitive to them, flicking his tongue against the swelling veins. Taeyong accepts every groan Doyoung awards, and they go straight to his own boner, egging him to go on

“ – _good_ ,” Doyoung whines, looking down at Taeyong with half-lidded eyes. Taeyong stares back adamantly, moaning to send vibrations around Doyoung. His gut tightens when Doyoung inhales sharply, biting on his lower lip, “ _Christ_.”

Taeyong interchanges sliding his saliva-slicked lips around Doyoung’s length and taking Doyoung until he hits the back of Taeyong’s throat, hand inching back to fondle with Doyoung’s balls. The hold in Taeyong’s hair tightens in increments, and it’s accompanied with the way Doyoung’s breathing shallows.

“I’m – I – ”

Taeyong swallows everything when Doyoung comes, jerkily and with a strangled shout, legs quivering. Taeyong moans around him, watching Doyoung shake as he continues to milk him through his aftershocks. He pulls out of Taeyong’s mouth just before it gets uncomfortable, getting to his knees and kissing Taeyong without hesitation.  

Doyoung pushes Taeyong back until he’s down on the blanket, arms twining around Doyoung’s neck, keeping their lips locked. He hooks his legs around Doyoung’s hips, just to hold them close.

Taeyong grabs onto the pillow lying nearby when Doyoung moves away to trail kisses down his chest. He makes a show of leaving a steady line of kisses down Taeyong’s sternum and abdomen, pushing Taeyong’s legs up by the thighs to finally reveal the metal plug. Doyoung says nothing, turning his head to kiss along Taeyong’s inner thighs, but his eyes fixate on the glint of silver. The plug twitches with Taeyong’s every breath, rim puckered around it.

It’s a long while of staring that Taeyong finally whispers, “Doyoung.” He catches Doyoung’s attention enough, and he tips forward to kiss Taeyong languidly. Taeyong whimpers when Doyoung pushes his knees to his chest, the plug moving in him, “ _Doyoung_.”

“Pretty,” Doyoung hums, using the pad of his index finger to brush along the juncture where his thighs and crotch meet, taunting Taeyong expertly. Taeyong hips buck upwards, hoping Doyoung would take the plug out, touch him, do _anything_ , but he doesn’t. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Please,” Taeyong hisses, trembling when Doyoung lays his finger on the metal loop. “Doyoung, I – ” he starts, words choked off when Doyoung finally tugs on it a little, brows jumping when the plug refuses to budge. He tries again, but Taeyong clamps down involuntarily, shuddering visibly.

Doyoung licks his lips, eyes darting up to meet Taeyong’s for a second. “Relax for me, baby.”

Taeyong curls his toes, “I can’t.”

“Breathe for me,” Doyoung says, reaching for Taeyong’s hand where it’s clutching the pitiful pillow. Taeyong grabs onto him promptly, nodding twice. Doyoung tugs on the plug again, gently, kissing Taeyong’s knee to try and get him to loosen up, “Breathe, baby.”

Taeyong heaves, groaning with resentment, “This feels like a fucking Lamaze class.”

Doyoung laughs, pressing his nose to Taeyong’s thigh and inhaling once. He twists the plug enough, taking advantage and distracting Taeyong with sweet words, drawing it out slowly. It’s not too wide, Doyoung finds, egg-shaped and warm from being inside Taeyong, who moans at the loss of it – of something – in him.

In the next heartbeat, Taeyong is whining again, “Doyoung, please – ”

Setting the plug aside, Doyoung steadies Taeyong by the thighs, wasting no time with pressing his tongue flat against Taeyong’s gaping entrance. Taeyong yelps, legs kicking upwards and knees knocking together, shocked at the expected intrusion. He tries to calm down a little, not wanting to suffocate Doyoung with his thighs, but the boy isn’t helping, dragging his tongue across Taeyong’s perineum and then back over Taeyong’s rim.

Taeyong thrashes around feebly, head spinning at how Doyoung is persistent in not entering him anytime soon, tongue, finger, nor dick. He thinks he could come anyway, just from being licked, already facing the limit after sucking Doyoung off. Taeyong trembles when Doyoung hardens his tongue just to dip slightly past the rim, pulling out before it can give Taeyong any sort of tangible pleasure.

“Doyoung,” he begs, voice cracking with desperation.

Taeyong’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he hears Doyoung sound a tiny, _Hmm_?, eating him out fervently. He clamps his mouth shut, knowing he’s seconds away from screaming so ridiculously loud that even top-grade soundproofing won’t be able to save them.

Tears begin to prick at the corners of Taeyong’s eyes from the frustration, and he squeezes on Doyoung’s hand to try and let him know that it might be getting a little too much when –

Doyoung slips a finger in alongside his tongue, giving Taeyong a substantial amount of _something_ to work with. He sighs in genuine relief, and Doyoung pulls off at the sound of it, slipping a second finger in. A pleasurable twinge follows the stretch. He curls them against Taeyong’s walls, kicking him one step closer to his end.

“Okay?” Doyoung asks, a little belatedly. Taeyong nods quickly, too entranced by Doyoung’s reddened lips and chin slicked with saliva. He adds a third finger, thin and bony, pressing against Taeyong’s insides, making Taeyong clench down tight as if he wanted them to leave a mark. “Do you want it like this?”

Taeyong clears his throat, dry and sore from having controlled his screams, but it’s deemed useless when his voice breaks, needy, “Want you.”

He doesn’t expect for Doyoung to pull his fingers out that quickly, ripping a surprised shout from Taeyong. It simmers into a quiet moan when Doyoung leans back on his heels to snatch the lube off the table, squeezing a generous amount into the palm of his hand. Taeyong watches as Doyoung strokes himself, anticipation rising.

When Doyoung starts to push into him, Taeyong lips fall apart in a silent moan, taking in ragged inhales. He grips tight against the back of his thighs, nails stinging flesh. Taeyong struggles not to come instantly, Doyoung filling him more than the plug or fingers (his own included) ever could, sinking to the hilt.

“ _God_ ,” Doyoung groans, adjusting to have his knees bracketing Taeyong’s hips, pulling Taeyong’s feet to plant them against his chest. He reaches deeper in such a position, and Taeyong feels the last of his soul leave his body. Doyoung licks his lips, “Okay?”

Taeyong nods, not trusting his voice to work, but he cries out when Doyoung pulls out halfway to push back in, torturously slow. The thrusts turn languid, Doyoung clearly taking his time with Taeyong, steady rolls of his hips. Taeyong hooks his legs over Doyoung’s shoulders, hands grappling onto Doyoung’s biceps in an effort to keep himself grounded.

Bubbles of high-pitched moans are coaxed out of Taeyong when Doyoung speeds up, and, in the position they’re in, Taeyong can do nothing but let Doyoung take control. He’s reduced to groaning and mumbling to himself, gasping on an inhale the moment Doyoung fucks him in an angle that has him seeing stars.

“D – don’t stop,” Taeyong rasps, hooking his ankles together. He pulls Doyoung down to him, ignoring the way his thighs burn at the stretch, parting his lips automatically for Doyoung’s tongue to slide through. There’s just something about holding himself so proudly open to Doyoung that makes his groin tingle, waves of pleasure coursing through him. “Faster,” he whispers, holding onto his ankles behind Doyoung’s neck as Doyoung takes heed, going hard and fast. “ _Doyoung_ , more, baby – _please_.”

The sound of skin against skin is obscene, and with less of a chance that Taeyong’s moaning will dwindle, Doyoung kisses him hastily, lest someone comes knocking on the door.

Taeyong is in the midst of a litany of ‘Doyoung, don’t stop, please – faster, so _good_ , _please_ ’ that he comes untouched, back arching up into Doyoung completely. He cries into Doyoung’s mouth, chest heaving as his body trembles uncontrollably, post-orgasm waves thundering down his spine. Taeyong appreciates Doyoung halting mid-thrust, focusing instead on peppering kisses on his neck and across his collarbones.

“Keep going,” Taeyong mumbles, shortly after the last shiver leaves his toes. He holds Doyoung in place, keeping their lips together. Doyoung rolls his hips tentatively once, watching Taeyong’s expression. When there’s no sign of pain, he surges forth, chasing after his own release. “In me,” he moans, using whatever energy left to hold onto Doyoung tight in him.

“I’m – ” Doyoung pulls out of Taeyong within the minute, jerking himself off until he comes, over Taeyong’s torso with a good bit of it landing on the blanket.

Taeyong lets his legs fall from Doyoung’s shoulders, and they hit the ground unceremoniously. “Why’d you pull out?” He motions for Doyoung to come closer, arms too weak for him to do it himself, “I said it was okay.”

Doyoung pats around his work desk for the box of Kleenex, and Taeyong grumbles incoherently at his boyfriend’s choice of prioritizing hygiene over post-sex cuddles. “We’re still going for dinner, aren’t we?” He crawls forward to kiss Taeyong placatingly when he notices the disapproving look Taeyong has on, “I didn’t want you feeing uncomfortable.”

Taeyong snorts, but he lets Doyoung clean his thighs and torso up. “You didn’t say that the time you fucked me before my final exam. That paper was two hours long, Doyoung.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes, face colored pink a few shades dark, “That was an accident! We were _college_ students.” He adds, “Besides, you _wanted_ me to come in you.”

“Did not!” Taeyong kicks him on the arm, “I’d said to use a condom!”

“You’d most definitely did not,” Doyoung deadpans. He mimics, “If my memory doesn’t fail me – _‘raw me baby, I want you so bad, please!_ ’ was what you’d said.”

Taeyong glares at him. In a flat voice, “Wow, you really are such a sweet guy, baby. I love you _so_ much.”

“You’d also said no fucking in the library,” Doyoung reminds him, tossing the dirty tissues in the plastic bin by his desk. “Well, guess what – we _did_ it.” Despite their banter, Taeyong scoots over on the blanket for Doyoung to lie down too, smushing his face into Doyoung’s sweaty chest with a defeated groan. Doyoung whispers triumphantly into his hair, “ _Thrice_.”

“Oh, shut _up_ ,” Taeyong groans, curling his arm around Doyoung’s waist. The lower half of his body is deemed useless at this point and he can still feel Doyoung in him somehow, which means moving is out of the question for now.

After a peaceful moment, Doyoung reaches behind Taeyong for the pillow, slotting it under his boyfriend’s head. They share the square cushion, breathing in each other’s exhales. “Thank you,” Doyoung says lowly, brushing the hair out of Taeyong’s eyes. “For everything.”

Warmth blooms in Taeyong’s chest at the sight of Doyoung’s smile, perfect pearly whites peeking through. “Honestly,” Taeyong sighs, “I did this for myself, really.” He kisses Doyoung again, “We haven’t done something like this in a while.”

Doyoung catches it, even if Taeyong didn’t mean it, like he always does. “I’ll take you on a proper date soon, I promise.”

“No, no,” Taeyong snuggles closer, brushing the tip of his nose to Doyoung’s. “That’s not what I meant – I just missed you, all of a sudden.”

Doyoung looks at him, a little dazed. “I know,” his lips stretch into a lazy grin. “But I’m always here.”

“Sap,” Taeyong whispers, kissing Doyoung sweetly. He runs his hand down Doyoung’s back, startling himself when he feels the plug lying on the ground. He nudges it away lest Doyoung rolls onto it, “What did you think of the – plug?”

“I like it,” Doyoung answers easily. With a pause, “But I like stretching you out myself too.”

Taeyong hums, “I’ll keep that in mind the next time then.”

And Doyoung smiles, this time, gums and all.

Time slows for a moment.

Taeyong makes another mental note to visit the grocery store after dinner for Doyoung’s lunchbox tomorrow. He racks his mind on what to cook, all the while enjoying the way Doyoung plays with his hair. His heart thumps embarrassingly loud when Doyoung begins to hum, that same song he’s been taking everywhere with him lately, and Taeyong shivers, like he’s been conditioned to.

Him singing, him laughing, him sighing. Him anything.

Taeyong closes his eyes,

 _Mine_.

 

 

 

 

 

(“Please get that blanket dry-cleaned, that was, like – fifty dollars.”

“Fifty!” Doyoung stares at the soiled throw incredulously, “For this ugly thing?”

Taeyong whips around from where he’s struggling with a sock, “‘Ugly’?” He’d bought it knowing how cold Doyoung got in studios, ever since their college days. In retrospect, he’s amazed Doyoung still has it lying around.

A sheepish look graces Doyoung’s features before he’s smiling, bright and wide and knowing that it’ll distract Taeyong from the fact that he’d just called Taeyong’s first ever gift to him _ugly_ ,

“Have I told you how much I _love_ you?”

“You’re an idiot.”)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> warning: long, unnecessary a/n ahead -- feel free to skip it ;; 
> 
> well... you can find me in the proverbial trash can ;; i'm sorry, i wish i came back with something better, but rbahc/atla/asode are getting increasingly difficult to write and i'm literally losing my mind and too guilty to return to twitter, so i will when i have something good (or another lousy short) ;; i never want to write pwp again, this was so difficult, and i just wanted to post something honestly ;; 
> 
> insp. by [doyoung's cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSPlYv5MPdE), but i accidentally wrote this entire thing while listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPBwXKgDTdE) instead ;;


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